Monday, April 23, 2012

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Three, Poem Eleven

Anniversary

Confessions call for olive oil,
sentences with swirling bread,
spoons flip me back from legs that dance

around the truth, which tries to dance
towards me, easier to catch oil
with a spatula, or baking bread

in my hands. You say I should break bread
to ask and give thanks, not just dance
with my fingers, nervous as oil.

Bread-maker fingers slide like oil in my hand to dance.

No comments: